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6-1971 Existentialism as Reflected in the Imagery of William Styron's Work Sally Yates Wood

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This Thesis is brought to you for free and open access by the Student Research at UR Scholarship Repository. It has been accepted for inclusion in Master's Theses by an authorized administrator of UR Scholarship Repository. For more information, please contact [email protected]. EXISTENTIALISM AS REFLECTED IN THE IMAGERY OF WILLIAM STYRON'S WOB.K

BY SALLY YATES WOOD

A THESIS SUBMITTED TO THE GRADUATE FACULTY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF RICHMOND IN CANDIDACY FOR THE DEGREE OF HAJTER OF ARTS IN ENGLISH

JUNE 1971 APPHOVAL SHEE'r CON'I'ENTS

I. Pr'eface ...... 1

II. Th~ Horrendous Existential World...... 1-10 III. Feeling of Emptiness qnd Nothingness ••••••••••••• 11-24 IV. Escapism ••..•...... 25-37

v. The Courage to Be. • • • • • • • 4 • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • )8-50 VI. Bibliography...... VII. Vlta...... • 55 PH.EFACE i

In Lie Down in Darkness, The Long March and Set This

House .Q!1 .El!:!:,. William Styron studies the modern condition of man and hls world. Styron describes this situation ac­ cording to ~n existential definition of existence. The world of his novels ls depleted a.s a lonely and bleak rea.lm where m8n finds no external means of support. As a result of these conditions, man flounders aimlessly. The re~son for this erratic behavior ls th8t man relies too heavily on finding guidance from the outside world. Styron contends that man will continue to stumble so miserably. until he realizes that. he will find no support from any outside source. Man's only alternqtive ls to sfek security from within hlmself. Thus the only positive choice of existence that man can make ls to struggle to flnd persona] strength and courage.

In studying t;hese ..:..oniiltions th1.s the:,ls pRrtlculqrly emphasizes the lmaglstlc development within Styron's novels. Styron graphically describes the grl.m existential world and man's reactions to such~ bleak exist~nce. Styron develops his 1m8ges even to encompass the more positive aspec~a of the existential existence.

In the course of th1s study, many refer~:cc~ ~re made to ~6ren Klerkegagrd and Paul T1111.ch. Since Styron does echo many of the expressions of these ph1losopherst lt becomes helpful to ref~r to their works in order to cl8r\fy the posi­ tion of Wll.1.1B.m Styron. The Horrendous Existential World

According to existential philosophy, man lives in a lonely and devastatingly unstructured world. His isolated plight is commonly described with the depletion of a scene where man ls seen being hurled onto the earth by some 1nvis- 1ble hand and then being left to shift for himself without the support of any benevolent force. William Styron joins the ranks of many modern novelists when he studies this problem of the existential experience. In his novels Styron portrays such a world of desolate isolation, and then he describes man's reactions to this isolated situation. Unlike the nihil- lstic or atheistic branch of the existential school, Styron sug3ests positive ways of dealing with life's dilemmas. He docq not agree that life offers a "no exit" alternat;ive or, in other words, that man's 11fe ls hopeless nnd frustrating.

Instead, man has a very important choice that he can m~ke, one th~t would provide him with the strength that he needs to challenge the obliterative forces of the world. He can affir- mnt1vc1y elect to find support and courHge from Hlthln himself. Paul Tilllch labels such an nfflrmatlve option "the courage

to b1:,.-, II 1 A basic tenet of ex1stent1Etlism holds that man is deserted by God. Many philosophers debate whether or not God has

1 ~:he QQJ.1rAge .!& ~ (New Haven, Connec t1c u t: Yale Uni ver­ [::1 ty P::'ess. 1952.) 2 abandoned manklnd or whether mankind has abandoned God. Of course, the end result of either condition 1s that man ls left alone without any spiritual or d1v1ne source of comfort. With- out overemphasizing this situation, Styron 1mpl1c1tly notes 1n his novels that thls lack of divine presence is an inherent state of being. His characters obviously suffer traumatically from the loss of such guidance and security. They would possi­ bly not flounder in life if such a base of support was intrin­ sically present in their world. Unfortunately man must learn to survive 1n spite of this absence. According to Luigi of

Set Thi.§. House .Q.!1 ~. man is sentenced to such an isolated existence.

We are serving our sentence in solitary con­ finement. • • • Once we were at least able to talk w1 th our Jail er, but now even He has g'one away, leavi~g us alone with the knowledge of insufferable loss.

There are, also, no established institutions in the modern world that c8n offer man any solace. Styron partic- ularly relies on the fact that formal standards or morals, dlcta.ted by society. are nonexistent. American modernization has erased any trace of such a regulated world. Even the Old South, which tradltlonally represents a world of strict values and customs, has changed. Styron's ;irg1nia ~an only provide

2 K1111am Styron, Set This House on Fire (New Yorlr.: The New bmerlcan Library. 1960;:-p; 473. S'l'HOFnnd the .;."4gi) numbers of quotations from ~his source will follow tlw quo­ tation parenthetically. its inhabitants with old, decaying values that are useless to modern man. Virginia in turn offers no vital, social substitutes. As Milton Loftis remarks, this culture has fallen into ruin.

Death was in the air ••• but wasn't autumn the season of death, and all Virginia a land of dying? In the woods strange, somehow rather mar­ velous fires were burning: across the gray day, the road st.111 shiny with the odor of burned wood and leaves. Ghosts of Rochambeau and McClellan, old campfires of earlier falls, with smoke just as blue as this, just as fatal.J

Both the fathers of Peter Leverett and Milton Loftis maintain that there are basic rules that society prescribes for mankind. Milton is continuously haunted by his father's moralistic adages, and he ls disturbed because this patri­ archal advice does not apply to his life. Hts father was wrong when he dictated that society demands a certain stan- dard. Milton discovers that life offers no such restricted security. Peter's father, also, clings to the past and to optimistic institutions such as Roosevelt and hls New Deal. (STHOF-17) He blames the discontent of modern men on the fact that they do not listen and learn from such sources of wisdom. Peter realizes that his father's standards fall to solve any of his problems. Apparently these values bring no peace to his father, for he is only a bitter and frustrated old man ..

3 Wlll1am Styron, Lle Down ln Darkness (~ew York: The American Library, 19 51),p-:--f78-.- LDID and the page numbers of quot11.tlons from thls source will follow the quotation parenthetically. 4 The mechanical age contributes to the destruction of the social standards of Virginia. Old traditions cannot survive in the fast moving age of the machine. Peter Leverett returns to Port Warwick. Styron's mythological Yoknapatawpha County. He sadly discovers that his southern homeland has been altered, and he feels lost and disoriented because of this change.

Of my sojourn in Virginia. however. there ls a little bl t more to say. Nothing in America rem~ins fixed for long. but my old home town, Port Warwick had grown vaster and more streamlined .qnd clownish­ look1ng th~n I thought a decent southern town could ever become •••• In America our landmnrks and our boundaries merge, shift, and change quicker than we can tell: one dA.y we fe. el rooted, and the cr:i.rpet of our experience ls a familiar thing upon which we securely stand. Then, s.s if by some conjuring trick. it ls all yanked out from bene~th us, and when we come down we elight upon - what? 'l'he same old street, to be sure. But where it once had the solid resounding of Bankhead Magruder Avenue - dear to all those who remember that soldier who 5talemated McClellan - now it ls ce.lled Buena. Vista Terrace (It's the California influence," my father complained, "it's going to get us e.11 in the end."); an all-engulfing billboard across the way tells us to "Listen to Jack Avery. the Tidewater's Favorite Disk Jockey," and though we are obscurely moved by intimstions of growth, of advancement. we feel hollow and downcast. ( STHOF-14-15)

Because of this modern, mechanical progress, the world becomes impersonal and cold. Inanimate objects, such as illuminated sign bonrds and powerful automobiles, characterize the modern condition. In Cass Klnsolving•s words, the world has been turned into "an ashheap of ignorance and sordid crappy mater- iallsm and ugliness." (STHOF- 272) Mechanization ls diametrically opposed to the human sit- uatlon, for automation is indifferent to man's pe1·sonal )· needs.~ This point ls exemplified in~~ in Darkness. The hearse that carries Peyton's body continualJy breaks down during the trip to the cemetery. In the f::ice of the human emotion of this sad dayt such mechanical inconvenience 1s chillingly awesome. This incident illustrates the fact that the machine cr:m in no way relate to man• s 11.fe, for the machine is only an insensitive nut and bolt. It is therefore understandable that man finds it difficult to adjust to this cold age of the ma.chine and that he feels lost Rnd e.lienated in such a mechanistic environment. Without any kind of divine or social touchstones man's life ls frightfully free. Milton's father decl0res that there nre forces that restrict man and consequently eliminate the poss1b1llty of self-determination.

"My son, most people, whether they know it or not," his f'3.ther had said, "get on through life by a sophomoric fatqlism. Only poets and thieves can exercise free will, and most of them die young." (LDID- 91)

When Milton goes out into the world he learns that his father's philosophy is far from being the truth. Milton is provided with so much freedom that it is oppressive. Unfortunately most people, including Milton, 8re not strong enough to handle such personal license. The majority of 1nd1v1dunls would prefer to have name limltattons set u~on themselves.

4?'. H. Heineman, Ex1stent1allsm and the Modern .Predicament (New York: Hrirper and Brothers, 195B)-:P.:3"4. 6 Styron develops many metaphors ln his novels that describe the disheveled and isolated freedom of life. In

~ Long March, Captain Mannix is called back into active duty in the Marines. This military service completely sep­ arates him from the world of his family B-nd career. After ' several days on the base he feels that this former existence 1s all a part of a dreamlike past. This sense of d1sorien- tation is exemplified by the use of a metaphor that repeatedly dots the pages of The Long March. Mannix ond his confidante in arms, Culver, often feel as though they are lost; lost as if on a lonely sea. Before the march Culver ls sitting alone 1n his tent thinking about his family. He suddenly feels as isolated Ai.nd lonely as one who is "unhelmed upon a dark and compassless ocean. 11 5 During the long march this metaphor for loneliness is 8gain used. Mannix and his men are passed on the roqd by a car, "a slick convertible bound for the North, New York perhaps." The passengers ~re totally unAware of the grueling march Bnd its participqnts. These people are "like ocean voyagers oblivious of all those fishy struggles below them in the night, submarine and fAthomless."

(~-8.3) Thls incident illustrB.tes the strangeness or unreal- 1 ty of the m9rcher's situation.6 On another level of meaning, this episode ex~mplifies the lonely plight of man in general.

5w1111am Styron, The Long March (New York: Vintage Books, 1952), p. 35. 114:1 and the page numbers of quotations from this source will follow the quotation paienthetically. 6Eugene McNamara, "William Styron's Long March: Absurdity and Authority," WHR, 15 (Summer, 1961), 271. 7 Man 1s similarly passed in the night without any recognition from the outside world. Styron sets the scenes within a wartime framework in

~ ~ 1!!. Darkness, ~ Lons March, and ~ !!!.!.§. House .2!!

~· He creates such a mil1tarist1cally destructive atmo­

sphere 1n order to stress the gloc•my predicament of modern man. There are no concrete sources of security 1n life, but there surely are concrete forces of destruction and dread in this world. War ls a total experience ln The Long March. For the Marines ln this story, there is no other form of life. In the other works the characters are not directly involved in war activities, but they are certainly affected by the desolation of war.

Explosions and bombings are particul~rly prevalent

images in these novels. ~ Long March opens with the horrors of an accidental explosion in the midst of some Marine re- crults.

One noon, in the blaze of a cloudless Carolina summer, what was left of eight dead boys lRy strewn about the landscape, among the poison ivy and the pine needles and loblolly saplings. It was not so much as if they had departed this life but as if, spr~yed from a hose, they were only shreds of bones, guts, a.nd dangling tissue to which it would have been impossible to impute the quality of life, far less the capacity to relinquish it. (TLM-5}

In these novels the atomic bomb is a dominant image of dread. W1111am Styron is obviously preoccupied with some of the traumatic events which occurred during the late forties and the fifties. The memory of the bombing of Hiroshima and the 8 threat of etom1c attack during the Cold War Crisis were major concerns ln America. Styron capitalizes on this mood by portraying this devastating m8chine of modern warfare in his works. These novels were written during the decades of the fifties, and Styron's reading audience could easily

sympathize with the conditions described therein. In~

~ 1!l Darkness the bombing of Hiroshima ls particularly emphasized. This atrocity not only serves as en illustration of a cause of anxiety and fear, but lt also reflects the general mood of the characters. For instance Peyton Loftis is literally losing hold of her life. Interestingly enough

she commits suicide as an aftermath of hearing about the

atomic bombing in Japan. This earth-shattering event did not directly cause her death, for Peyton's problems were much more deeply rooted. This bombing did, however, contribute to the sense of anxiety that she was experiencing at the time. The holocaust in Japan mirrors Peyton's personal holocaust. One of the most encompassing images that describes the unstable conditions of the world ls that which deuls with an abysmal cavity. In .TIJ.e Coura8e to Be, Paul Tillich notes thnt there are two types of nightmares which confront modern ma.n. One nightmare rleFils wl th an entrapr·lng narrowness which threRtens to suffocate its victim. The other is con­ cerned with a vast and dark emptiness into which the person fal1s.7 William Styron develops the latter 1.mage ln his

7T1lllch, pp. 62-63. 9 novels. Most of the time such infinite space is verbally pictured by one of the characters. For instance Cass Kinsolving states that he h8.s seen a big vacuum, an absolute blankness, a dark whiteness or a sucking vortex. 8 At enother time Cass tells Luigi, the Fascist, humanitarian policeman, of his look into the depths of the abysss.

I knew thqt I had come to the end of the road and had found there nothing at all. Ther~ was nothing. There was a nullity in the universe so great as to encompass and drown the universe itself. The value of a man's life w~s nothing, and his destiny nothingness. (STHOF-465-466)

One of the most graphic tllustrqtions of the confrontation with ~bysmal forces occurs in The Long MArch. A group of drunl{en soldiers jokingly dee lde to hang Mannix from their tenth floor hotel window. Mannix proceeds to tell Culver of his p~nicky feelings during this suspenston in space.

I just remember the cold wind blowing on my body and that dark, man, 1nf1nite dBrkness all around me, and my ankles b'glnnlng to slip out of their hands. I really saw Death then, and I think that all I could think of wns that I was going to fall and smash myself on that ha.rd, hRrd street below. That those crazy bastards were going to let me f~ll. I was praying, I guess. I remember the blood rush­ ing to my brain FJ.nd my ankles sl 1 pp1ng, A.nd that awful strange noise. And I was reaching out, man, clutching at· thin air. Then I won­ dered what th~t noise was, that high loud nolse. and then I realized it was me, scream'ng at the top of my votce, all over San Francisco. (.1!!11-57-58)

8 References of the abyss are on page 189,190,192 and 439 tn set I.h1!! House .Q!! Fire. 10 Later Culver who 1s suffering from the pangs of homesickness and estrangement can underst~nd this experience. Culver suddenly feels "like Mannix, upturned drunkenly above the abyss, blood rushing to his head, in terror clutching at the substanceless night." (!.!di-59-60) Such graphic depictions of the loneliness end emptiness of man's exterior world serve as a perfect description of the existential experience. Styron has created in these novels an unpatterned and illogical envtronment where man finds no external means of support. Having established such cond1t1ons, Styron then proceeds to study man's responses to the existential world. II 11

Feelings of Emptiness and Nothingness

As a result of the irr~tionRlity of the exterior world, man becomes frustrated. Then man makes a desperate attempt to counterbBl~nce this feeling of insecurity by turning to himself for support. This inward search for security only leads to further despair, for man's first real look at him­ self ls disappo1nting. 9 This conscious appraisal of the self makes the individual aware of his failures and guilts. In one of his self-oriented monologues, Cass Kinsolving of~

~ House .Q!!. ~ describes this culpable feeling of anxiety.

What I was really sick from was from despair and self-loathing and greed and selfishness and spite, I was sick with a paralysis of the soul, and with self, and with flabbiness. I was sick with whatever sickness men get in prisons or on desert islands or any place where the days stretch forward gray and sunless into flat-assed infinitude and no one ever came with the key or the answer. I was very nearly sick unto death, and I guess my sickness, if you really want to know was the sick­ ness of deprivation, and the deprivi:;.tlon was my own doing, because though I didn't know it then I had deprived myself of all belief ln the good in myself. The good which ls very close to God. That's the bleeding truth. ( S'I'HOF-2 59-260) .. In this passage Cass echoes the philosophy of Soren Kierkegaard who can be d.esignated as a Christ 1an existenttalist.10

9Heinemnn, p. J6. 10 The Christian existenttallst recognizes the bleak exterior world of man and the loneltness of his llfe, but according to his philosophy. man can find some enter strength that will afford him with the courage to face boldly life's dilemmas. The Christian existentialist states that man can be aspired with such strength if he only looks to God for support. 12

Cass volces a Kierkegaardian concept which suggests that man is incomplete and sorrowful because he is separated from God. As a person he has neglected the eternal factor within himselr.11 Cass does note that he has deprived him­ self of the good within himself, "the good which is very close to God." It is true that Styron does occasionally allude to such a religious factor. The comment of Cass concerning his lack of divine goodness illustrates this point. Either because of a lack of dedication to this point of view. or because of an unconscious deficiency of thematic procedure, Styron does not consistently emphasize this con­ nection between man's personal success and the strength which comes from God. It ls more prevalent for his characters to be seen as being independent of any divine power. They determine thetr lives according to individual strength~ or weaknesses. It ls quite vital for man to experience this personal anxiety, for here he takes his first step toward regeneration. It is as lf man has to subject himself to a privately intro- spectlve hell before he can become a complete and relatively contented human being. As pa1nful as thls process may be, it ls much more constructive than avoiding a close look at one's self. Kierkegaard states that unconsciousness "may be the most dangerous form of despair. By unconsciousness the

11 .. Soren Kierkegaard, The Sickness Unto De~th, trans. Walter Lowr1e (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press. 1941), p. 108. 13 despairing man is in a way secured in the power of despair."12 As. Kierkegaard notes, some men will try to adjust to the ab­ surd conditions of the world. This behavior ls completely futile because man can never be comfortable wlthln such an environment, but in 1ts own peculiar way this type of exis­ tence is rather protecttve. At least man can hide within the world of despgir and avoid a confrontation wlth himself. He then would not be exposed to his own feelings of anxiety and guilt. Milton Loftis' life pattern illustrates this tendency of man to be lulled within the world of despnlr. Although he does experience moments of self-awareness, Milton generally lives ln a frustrated., fool's paradise. At certain intervals in his life, Milton tries to reform himself, or he makes some definitive gesture of personal awareness. For example, at Peyton's wedding he tries to apologize to his daughter

for the mistakes th~t he has made. Milton ls particularly susceptive when he asks his daughter to forgive him for lovlng her too much. At this moment he qpparently recognizes the fact that he ls abnormally attached to Peyton, and that many of t'he faml.ly problems Gre 11.nlrnd wl. th this libidinal relationship. Milton ls usually not aroused into such a state of self-awareness; he prefers to 11.ve 1.n an unreal world of hopeful optlml.sm and self-deception. Milton con-

12Kierkegaard, pp. 69-70. 14 tinuously has grand plans for the reuniting of hls family circle. It ls 1mposslble for him to accept the fact that h1s household ls drastically aliened, nor ls he completely willing to recognize the shortcomings of the members of hls family, himself included. Instead of realistically facing thls situation, Milton repeetedly looks forward to family reunions with the fruitless ho1e that everyone will m1racu- lously fall into each other's arms and live happily ever after. This pleass;.nt dream never materializes, and then

Milton just runs Away from the bleak actuality of his life. H1s favorite escape routes a.re through alcohol and adoles- cent sexuality. Styron develops one image throughout his novels which illustrates the 1nabl1ty of "the unconscious man111 3 to confront himself with the truth. The characters cannot face themselves ln the mirror because they see a reflection there that they cannot bear. In this glass they see themselves as they really are, and since "the unconscious man" refuses to recogntze the truth about himself, the image that he sees reflected is that of a stranger. In The Myth of Sisyphus, Albert Camus refers to "the weariness tinged with amazement"l4 when the unconscious 1.ndlvidual looks into the mirror and sees this perfect stranger. Needless to say the strange person

13 K1erkegaard, p. 69. 14 The Myth .Q.f Sisyphus~ Qthe~ Essays, trans. Justin O'Br1en--rN"ew York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1957), p. 11. 15 that he sees is less than attractive to the individual. For instance Milton looks tnto the glass and sees "a wasted, aging satyr." (.!ill!Q-250) For Cass the mirror reflects "the countless faces of[hiS.\ own guilt .. " (STHOF-269) It becomes nightmarish for Cass to face a m1rror and be confronted with his own culpable self-image. Cass says, "I am actually scared to look into a mirror for fear of seeing some face there that I have never seen before." (STHOF-345) Unlike Milton there are characters in Styron's novels who are more sensitive to their personal 1n.<=1dequacies. Peyton Loftis and Cass Kinsolving are able to discern a great deal of truth about themselves. In this process they suffer from an awareness of their weaknesses and consequently feel the effects of guilt-ridden anxiety. They respond differently to their insights, however. Cass's sense of personal aware­ ness 1s a constructive lesson in being. In the face of self­ knowledge Peyton cannot adjust, and she eventually destroys herself. For most of his life, Cass had lived ln a lethargic world of unawareness. He w~s totally insensitive to his own state of degradation. During this stage Cass very well repre­ sents "the unconscious man" that KierkegRard describes. The main body of .§!'...t ~ House .Q!l ~. however, is dedicated to the study of the new Cass, for here he becomes agonizingly conscious of his actions and particularly of his shortcomings. 16 One specific lncldent ln Cass's life serves as a pernon1 f1ca.t1on of his feelings of gu11 t and failure as a human being. With time Cass begins to reca.11 bits and pieces of a p~rtlcul~r occurrence of his boyhood days. For a long time Cass has suppressed the memory of this episode; similarly he had refused at one time to recognize truthfully the condition of his life. At first he ls only vaguely aw~re of some horrendous crime that he had committed, but finally he can recollect all the details. When Cass was a boy, he worked at a hardware store. One day the assistant manager, Lonnie, asked Cass to help him repossess a radio. A Negro

farmer h~d failed to me· t any of the payments for this appli­ ance. When they reached the farmhouse, they found lt deserted, and sfter a q_ulck search, they discovered the radio hldden beneath a loose, wooden planking. Lonr•ie beci;une enraged because a corner of the radio was chipped. He violently started to crash dishes to the floor and destroy the furniture. Besides being frustrAted about the dRmaged rgdio, Lonnie was known to be v1nd1cttve toward the Negro race. So he was not out of character when he' decided to ransack the cabin, but for some reason, unexplaln8ble to Cass, he joined Lonnie 1n this act of destruction. Cass was just a boy at the tlme and could be e9slly excused for not having the strength to protest against this malicious crime. Cass, however, cannot forgive himself because this deed betrays his weRkness even in hls maturity. When he looks baok over his life, he discovers that he never has been strong. The sum total of his life has 17 been as degrat51ng as th5.t disastrous dey in his c!1ildho0d

wher; he helped Lonnie destroy the farmhouse. For this reA.$On,

Ce.en cannot rid himself of a feeling of gull t for tt11s particular episode or for a lifetime of similar, episodic misdeeds. Cass notes that it is difficult to be confronted with such a clear recollection of oneself, and that the memory of this childhood crime makes it harder for him to endure his more mature self.

The guilt and the shgrne half-smothering me there, adding such a burden to the guilt and shame I already felt that I knew that, shown one more dirty face, one more foul and unclean image of myself, I would not be nble to support it. ( STHOF- 361)

As Cass becomes more and more aware of his guilt, he also becomes conscious of punishment. It ls not that he masochistlcci.lly craves punitive action, but it seems as if the guilt-ridden 1nd1v1dUBl naturally thinks of disciplinary chastisement. Cass tells Peter Leverett of one dream which repeatedly hBunts him. In this dream he is being executed for some anonymous crime. He is aware only of the fact that he has committed a crime which surpasses "rape or murder or

kidnapping or treason, some nameless and enormous crime." (STHOF-262} With tlme Cass realizes that in this dream he is being symbolically punished for a lifetime of personal misdemeanors.

I woke up beneath the blanket half-smothered and howling bloody murder with the vision in my brain of the dream's last Christ-awful horror: 18

which was my uncle, my dqddy, standlng with a cruel ble of cyS:nlde Bt the ch"lmber door, grinning with the s1~ck-lipped grin of Lucifer htsself and bl9ck es 3 crow in his round tight-fitting executioner's shroud. (STHOF-264)

(.(ui te understandably a father figure in fl 1c ts the punishment on the wayward child. Lewis Lawson suggests thRt the uncle represents more than a patern~l d1sc1pl1nar1an. Cass is 1 symbolically being judged qnd punished by God. 5 Styron's portrayal of the uncle. however, is not totally 1dentlf1~ble with a godhead. At the most, Styron describes the uncle as carrying a crucible, but this relic ls made of a g,r1.m and poisonous substance, cyanide. Then he ls clothed ln the typical black garb of the executioner. If Cass's uncle is identifiable w1.th God, he certqinly is a strange and exotic Old Testament avenger. Casu•s sense of gutlt grows to such stg8ntlc proportions that he begins to feel as if the forces of the solBr untverse embody and reflect his crimes. After the mur~ers at Sambuco, Cass frBnt1cally roams the Italian countryside. At this point C!01ss 1 s agon1 zlngly torn with sel f-torrnent. The sun's rays beat down on his head, end he becomes panicky. In Cess's imagination the ~un hns become a manifestation of his sin; the guilt that boils wlthtn him compares with the ~nergetic

15 "Cass Kinsolving: Klerkesnnrdlan Man of Despair.~ ~. J (FRll, 1962), 60. 19 swellings of the sun.16 His tn1t1al 1ncllnat1on 1s to ri~~~ro1 hl~~elf. fer ~e cannot endure such q blsz1ng vlslon of himself. He would then be freed from "this exploding sun of his own guilt •••• To remove from this earth all mark and sign and stain of himself, his love and his vain hopes and his p:·Jthetic creations and his gullt." (STHOF-461) As Cass falls as a man, a provider and a father, Peyton fails as a woman. This point is emphasized by her excessive sexual activities. Since Peyton's college days, she has overstepped all traditional and moral stF.1ndnrds. Most psy- chologists would agree that such promiscuous behav1.or slgnals deep-rooted emotional disturbances. Peyton adwlts that she tests her husband with her nymphomBnlac wanderings. She desperately wants Harry to love her, and in her mind the best way to be sure of his devotion ls to hurt him And then have him forgivingly take her back wl th open i::i.rms. Peyton certainly is an insecure woman, for the normal person would not go to such peculiar extremes to satisfy his curiosity. Peyton becomes intensely aware of her personal weaknesses. She particularly becomes conscious of her sexual sins or what her husband calls "the dirt beneath [herj bed." (!:.!?.1!:!,-347)

Peyton wants to be freed from her own image of guilt: therefore, she longs for lost innocence and the blissful state of such purity.

I tried to pray: lighten my darkness, I beseech you, oh Lord, and make me clean and pure and-without sin: God, give me my Harry back,

16Jonathn Baurnback, "Paradise Lost: The Novels of William Styron," South Atlantic ~uarterly, 63 (Spring, 1964), 217. 20

then, H8.rry, gl ve me my God back, for somewhere I've lost my way: make me as I was when l wqs a child, when we walked along the sand and picked up shells. (!&l£-J42)17

Peyton cannot reclaim innocence. She cannot, for exDmple, escape into the clean ca.vi ty of the newly purchased ala.rm-clock. Peyton imagines that within the womb of the

clock she would be purified gnd protected from the reelity of her gullt-ridden self. This Benrus clock would be her

11 womb all jeweled e.nd safe ... (!&.!]2-.329) Instead, she ls

constantly haunted by her sense of guilt. During the turmoil of her final day, Peyton is afflicted with acute pains with•n

her womb. These a.goni zing attacks emphnsize the reality of her plight. She cannot rid herself of the actuality of her past or of the painful awareness of her own guilt. The wingless birds that constantly follow Peyton are visual images of her guilt. These flightless emus, dodos, ostriches and moas serve as symbolic representations of her culpability.18 Peyton states that "guilt ls the thing with feathers, they came back with a secret hustle, preening their flightless wings and I didn't want to think." (LDID ... 336)

l7Peyton wants Harry to reinstate her with her God. The god figure is definitely her father. With her father she would be a child again, running free on the beach. In this passage Peyton is referring to her father because the beach and the company of her father are consistently linked together throughout this novel. 18 Maxwell Geismer, "WJlliam Styron: '!'he End of Innocence, n in American Moderns: From Rebellion to Conformity {New York: Hill and Wang, 195'S) ,--P:-245.. - 21 Peyton d.id not want to think beca;.ise the birds reminded her of her own llmitatlons; she really does not want to think or be confronted with her own self-image of guilt. Peyton's awareness of her sins ls so portentous that she feels as if she is being destroyed. Throughout his novels Styron associates being suffocated, being smothered and sweltering with the torturous condition of awRreness. When Cass awakens from one of his guilt-ridden dreams, he is generally entangled within folds of covers.19 Peyton exper­ iences the inundatory horror of drowning. She feels "as if she were walking undersea, as if she were surrounded by water." (.!d?112-Jl4)

Peyton wants to be rescued from this sensation of drowning. She cannot bear to flounder in her self-created ocean of guilt. For a long time she relies on the hope that Harry will be her lifeguard, but after too many attempts to preserve Peyton, Harry lets her go. Peyton now has no concrete hold for support, and she does not have the strength to swim. She cannot save herself. As a result Peyton sinks into her watery land of culpability. Peyton chooses to rid herself of her guilt by sinking into the obliterBting waters of death. Suicide ls her al­ ternative because she cannot cope with her anxiety. In life Peyton ls bound to her guilt. Like the wingless birds that haunt her, she cannot soar from the earth and be free. Thus

19see pages seventeen and eighteen (STHOF-264). 22 she decides to fly out of a seventh-floor window ln order

to "be borne HWay on the wings of katydids." (LDID-345)

Considering the burdens of existence, lt might seem

understandable that Peyton would elect to· e.nd her 11 fe. If

one 1s fam1J1qr with Styron's work as a whole, however, lt

ls then obvious that Styron differs with this negative phil-

osophy of life. Styron's objective is to portray an ex1sten-

tial hero who can function bravely in life. Styron ls

sympathetic with Peyton's plight; but, according to hi1T1, the

price she pays for freedom from guilt is too de~r. Peyton

surrenders life in order to secure this comforting oblivion.

St.vron fir1ds little consolation in her cr;cnrist rlltlosophy.

Peyton says. "Myself all shattered, thls lovely shell? ~erhaps

I shall rise at another time, though I lie down in darkness and have my light in sshes." (LDID-J68) Peyton's expectatlons ' - in Styren's opinion are futile: death offers only darkness.

Styron clarifies hts position when he portrays Cass Kinsolving as an ideal existential man. Unlike the major chari:ic ters of Lie .Q..Q!!n .1Jl Dnrkness, Cass has experienced despair hut has m8n~ged to survive. He does not allow himself to be engulfed in his own sorrow and despair; unlike Peyton,

Cass does not succumb to the temptation to drown his gullt in the obliterating waters of de~th. Instead, he chooses to fBce life wlth all its tntrlns1c and extrinsic frustrations.

Luckily Cass had the sup1iort of Luigi wllo cncournged him to emerge from the depths of despair. 23

I Right then I heard Lu1g1 '' s voice, ndomnnt and outraged.~ • • • " You sin in this gullt of yours. You sin in your guiltt" And suddenly I ce0sed trembling 8nd beceme c 0 lm qs if like some small boy on the verge of a tantrum I hRd been hAlted, the childish fit srrested by some almighty parent.'3.l voice. I snt back El gain and gazed out at the dark gulf, and the spell of anxiety vanished, as quickly as it had come. (STHOF-466}

In these novels Styron studies man's attempt to emerge from his inept stAte of unnwareness. It has been shown that 1n this process mAn endures the excruciating pangs of gulltt and condemnation by becoming so intensely awAre of his per- sonal limltB.tions. Such agony 1n itseJ.f, however, ls an essential step in achieving the courage to live a successful and productive life. Man cannot redeem himself until he fully accepts the burden of his weaknesses. III 24

Escapism

Man naturally tries to evade a condition that causes him to suffer. Styron is obviously aware of this behR.v1oral tendency, for in his novels he cre8tes A picture of man's attempts to escape from the harsh realities of his world. This avoidance of life is assoclqted with mqn•s unwillingness to face himself and find the courage to tackle personally the bold actu~lities of existence. Paul Tillich explains in the following passage that man flees in order to rid himself of the vast amount of freedom that life provides him. He also notes that such attempts to escape are futile because they do not relieve man of his frustrating sense of anxiety and g.uilt. 21

Then man tries another way out: Doubt ls based on man's sepqrRtion from the whole of reality, on his lack of universal pBrt1clpat1on, on the 1so1Rtion of his individual self. So he tries to break out of this sttuatlon. to identlfy himself with something translndlvldual, to sur­ render his sep0rat1on and self-relstedness. He flees from his freedom of asking and answering for himself to ~ situation ln which no further questions can be 9Sl{ed and the answers to questl.ons are imposed on him authoritatively. In order to a.void. the.risk .bf asking and doubting he surrenders the rlght to ask qnd to doubt. He surrenders himself

21Tlllich refers to man's efforts to preserve his spiri­ tual life. Since this quotation is taken out of context, lt ls necessary to explain Tillich's use of the word, spiritual. In this 1nstqnce a mRn's spiritual life does not allude to a religious state but rqther to an Aesthetic state of comfort and pleasure. 25 in order to save his spiritual life. He "escapes from hls freedom" (Fromm) in order to escape the Bnxtety of meaningless. Now he is no longer lonely, no~ 1n ~x1stent1al doubt. not in despair. He .,part1c1pates" and affirms by participation the contents of hls splritual life. Meaning ls saved, but the self ls sacr1f1ed. And since the con4uest of doubt was a matter of sacr1f1ce, the sqcrlf1ce of the freedom of the self, tt leAves a mark on the regained certitude: a fanatical self-assertiveness. Fru~at1c1sm 1s the correlate to spiritual self­ surrender, ~nd it sh~~s the anxlety which it was supposed to conquer.

Continuous intoxication sets the stage for escapism in

~ ~ 1Q Darkness and~ This House .2!l Flre. Milton Loftis and Cass Kinsolving use alcohol 1n order to free themselves from the burdens of their lives. In this self- created drunken world they can hide and find temporary pro- tect1on. Inebriation shields them particularly from them- selves, for in such a hazy state they need not be accountable for their actions. It ls hard, for instance, to expect much from Cass when he lives in a continuous stupor. He thus does not function as an artist, a father, a husband or as any kind of human being.

The self-protective shield of lntoxlcatlon comp~res with the comforting veil of d~rkness. In Styron novels darkness repeatedly occurs as a place of refuge. Cass, for example, seeks such an un11lum1na.ted protection when he finds himself 1n the depths of despair in Parts. He «felt that the most precious, the most desirable, the most marvelous

22 .!_he Cour9ge to ~·B p. 49 • 26

thlng 011 e13_rth would be to be shut up tightly alone-in the

the darkne~s of sleep protects her from her sense of guilt. This guilt is a result of her unwillingness to love or give of herself and ls also a result of the role she prefers to play-that of the martyr. The following passage describes Helen's wish for sleep and suggests that she ls aware of her

guilt. She must apologize to her f~ther for the condition of her life end for the sin she commits in escaping life through sleep.

When she took the last nembutal, slnking not into death but into what she hoped would be an endless sleep, filled with only the friendliest of dre8ms, it had been with a prayer on her lips and a mysterious, whispered apology to her father. (.!:2.IQ-260)

Of course the most encompassing and final darkness 1s tha.t which comes w1th death. Since one has to awake from sleep and since one cannot remain ln a dark room forever, death becomes a final alternative. Peyton Loftis apparently feels that death would free her from anxiety and cover her dread and sins with a rich veil of darkening obscurity. For 27 Peyton, escape comes wl.th an act of self-ann1.h1.lat1on and the consequential peace of lying down in darkness. It 1s important to note that Peyton and CRss have reached a very cr1 ti'cal point in the development of the exl ste.ntlal man. Both of them are extremely affected by their realization of the absurdities of llfe, and at this st9ge their very existence ls ln jeopardy. A choice has to be made between suicide and life.23 Cass prefers to challenge the absurdities; thus he chooses to have the courage to survive. Peyton chooses the other alternative. Cass has repeatedly yearned for a "long, long spell of darkness." (STHOF-232) In his Paris room he tries to commit suicide, but he cannot bring himself to do it. Cass does not klll himself because of a dream.

I think I would have willingly done myself in ln an instant 1.f it hadn't been th8t the same dream whlch pushed me toward the edge also pulled me back ln a sudden gasp of crazy, stark. riven torture: there wouldn't be f:lny oblivion in de.'lth, I knew, but only some eternal penitentiary where I'd tramp endlessly up gray steel ladderways and by my brother­ felons bA taunted with my own unnameable crime and where at the end there would be waiting the crucible of cyanide and the stink of peach blossoms and the stran~led gasp for life and then the dell.very, not into merciful darkness, but into a hot room at ni~ht, with the blinds drawn down, where I would stand again, as now, in mortal fear and trembling. And so on in endless cycles, like a barbershop mirror reflecting the countless faces of my own guilt, strRlght into 1nfln1ty. (STHOF-264-265)

2JBsumbBck, p. 9. 28

In this dream Cass realizes that death is not a comfor~ing finality, but it is rather a continuation of life. Thus death erases no guilt and delivers no serene darkness. Cass, therefore, does not kill himself because death would not free him from h1s misery. Cass looks for another escape route after he realizes that death will offer him no protection from himself or from his cruel existence. Another dream provides him with a pos-

Sible answer; he might be able to find peace in a sunny won- derland.

~nd I saw some southern land with olive trees Bnd orange blossoms, and girls w1 th me't'r.Y black eyes, and parasols, and the blue shining water ••• there seemed to be a carnival or a fqir: I heard the strumming music of ~ carrousel, which wound through tt all like a single thread of rApture, and I heard a liquid babl~le of tongues and I saw white teeth flashing in laughter and, lord love me, I could even smell 1 t- th ls smell of perfume and pines and orange blossoms and girls, all mixed up ln one sweet blissful fragrance of peace and repose and joy. (STH0~-266)

Because of this dream Cass decides to relocate his family and himself in Sembucao, Italy. He expects a great oeA.1 of Sam- buco because it ls a seaside retreat where the sun ls bright and the land is splendidly green. In essence Cass ls looking for an .Edenlc environment of sweetly sensual bliss, and on the surfRoe Sambuco offers such a cozy refuge. 24 Cass•s desire to reattain this ideal condition ls of course futile~ Man can never recapture such a parRdisaical st8te of bliss. Sambuco•s landscape might have Edenlc posslbllltles, but the

24Jerry H. Bryant, "The Hopeful Stoicism of W1111am Styron," ~outh Atl~ntic ~uarterli, 62 (Autumn, 1963), 539-550. 29 spell is broken because life goes on there w1th all its imperfection. Such a v1tal hindrance is dramatically empha­ sized by the presence ln this town of the grotesque "flicker creeps" qnd Mason Flagg. Styron has overdrawn.these figures oy making them as upp:1lling as possl ble, but he does make his point, that there can never be an ideal world freed from all troubles a.nd absurdities.

Cass turns to F'rancesca when he can find no lovely terrestrial hidee.way. '!'his dark-eyed girl becomes an image of quixotic idealism; Cass can serve and worship her just as Don Quixote idolized Dulcinea. Of course this ideal is as transitory as his dream of an escape into an Eden1c garden. In this case a rap1st's brutal1ty destroys the object of his adoration. Keirkegaard also explains that such a beaut1ful dream h~rdly rel1eves the individual from despair. This dream is only an 1mmedia.te and false h.'3 ppiness. The original causes of despair stil 1 exist behind the serene surface of happiness.

Even that which, humanly speaking, is the most beautiful and lovable th~ng of all, a fem­ inine youthfulness whlch ls sheer peace and harmony A.nd joy-even that is despair. For th1s indeed is happiness, but happiness ts not a characteristic of the spirit, and 1n the remote recesses of happiness, there dwells also the anx1ous dread which ts despnir: it would be only too glad to be allowed to rema1n therein, for the dearest and most attractive dwelling-place of despair 1s in the very heart of 1m~ed1ate happiness. All 1mmed10cy, in spite of its illusory pence and tr~nquilllty, ls dre3d •••• So even the most beaut1ful youthfulness and joy, is nevertheless despair, is happiness.25

2 5~ Sickness Unto Death, p. 37. :~o

Years later Cr-i.ss recalls such d8ydreamlng rind sE'~··s thnt hE'I was just hiding behind these desired ideals. c~ss says, "It was a real euphoria.. And God, how stupid I wr:is not to realize that the whole thing was e fraud. That I was ln real danger." (STHOF'-257)

Peyton also se~ks the protection of a green land of blissfulness. Both Peyton and Cass associate greenness with a state of pleasant security. For Peyton the Rappahannock

River and the rich land that 1 ines 1 ts wnterwn,ys ls her perfect Utopia. Here she spent playful summer days ln her youth. The twenty-year-old Peyton wishes that she could recapture thone lost moments of innocence nnd peace, for she is now tormented by the sins that she has committed and longs to rid herself of this despair. Albert Berger, a good friend of Peyton's husband, 1s right when he says that Peyton would prefer to 11ve in her safe "Winnie-the-Pooh lane of sirchlng plum blossoms." (LDID-350)

Peyton envies people who 9.re, in her words, dumb. In other words, she envies their simplicity or their primitive innocence. In Styron's novels the Negroes ~re representative of this type. They are relatively happy and content, !llld their s1mplic1 ty allows them to pos~;ess Bn unquestioning faith in God and the te8chings of Jesus. This chilct11ke funda­ mentalism explains the strong appeal of Daddy Faith. People like Peyton, however, ~re too sophistlc9ted, qnd they never will be r.lble to find hapµitier::s ln such slmpl1c1 ty or in any kind of funo '1rnentel rellglosi ty. 31 Peyton's need for her father suggests longings for innocence. As a child, Peyton and her father chased after butterflies; and, when she hurt herself, Milton took.her 1n his arms and comforted her. All would be safe and secure now lf Peyton could be wrapped ln her father's arms. Styron suggest that Peyton's attachment for her father and, for that matter, Milton's attachment for his daughter have Freudian implications. Her incestuous love for her f9ther, or her Electra complex, exists because of a psychic lmmaturlty which results ln her ~ttempt to cling to the infantile st~te of her childhood. Z6 Styron uses the image of the Electra complex as a direct clue to underst.qnding. It defines Peyton's char- a.cter and further explicates her desire to escape into the world of innocence.

Toward the end of her life Peyton has nothing to cling to, and she ls drowning in her despair. She cannot run to her father; circumstances will not allow it. Her mother certainly will never allow Peyton to come back and enjoy the comforts of the river front or of her father's arms. Also

Peyton has come to realize that her fAther ls RS weak and confused as sh~ is and that he could Actually offer her little protection. As a consequence of this awareness Peyton replaces such means of escape with idealized fa.nt~sy. Now Peyton dreams of finding protection with her grandmother who was dead years before Peyton's birth. This euphoric att8chment for her

26Iheb Hassan, "Encounter with Necessity," ln Hadical Innocence (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 196~p. 126. grandmother could give her the love and protection of a mother.

That when I lay down in Richmond 1.n Grnnd­ mother• s bed I saw her picture on the wall so benlgnlJ smiling, even on that day I heard the flower man clipclop along beneath the cedqrs, moved And peered at in my slumber through half­ closed eyes, a.nd I reached out my arms, cried mother mother mother, to that image even then twenty years before turned to bones nnd dust. (~-J66)

Peyton's longing to crawl into the smooth and clean works of the alarm clock 1.s associated i·11 th her desire to find protection with her grandmother. Both images are concerned with a need to escape into a more secure reralm.

The interior cavity of the alarm clock. offers such safety because it resembles the w~rm and enveloping space of the womb. The mechanical works of the clock afford the same klnd of clean, uniform existence as that provided ln the womb.

Once I'd had a dream: I was 1nside a clock. Perfect, complete, perpetual, I revolved about on the mainspring forever drowsing, watching the jewels and the rubles, the mechanism clicking ·ceaselessly, all the screws and parts as big as my head, indestructible, shining. my own invention. Thus would I sleep, forever, yet not really sleep, but remain only half-aw9re of time, -

If Peyton could only get inside the clock she co~ld escape from all the hardships of the outside world, but roore than 33 this, she would then be freed from personal anxiety and its

pangs of guilt. Inside this cavity the fll~htless kRtydids, which are symbols of her guilt, would not torment her. They would not be able to crawl into the clock after her. Peyton would thus be freed from her own ·conscience. Peyton ls attracted to the clock because of the clear green light thst illuminates 1ts hands and face. When she thinks of the clock, she thtnks "of green things suddenly

and a f11.r, fantostic lawn." (LDID.-J39) As wl th the lawn of the Rappahannock River, greenness again represents a nostalgic color that is as comforting as the bliss of innocence. Peyton's dream yearnings cannot materialize and offer her any r-rotectlon. Suicide seems to be her only resort or her final escape. In her mind the fatal leap will cleAnse her of all her sins and transport her into a dark world of innocence. Her sulclde does possess all the aspects of a purification. Peyton rttuallstlcally strips herself of her clothes whlch ,qre the vestments of her corruptton. 2 7 In this stRte she feels as innocent as a child. Now she ls free to fly into the arms of her comfortlng father. but the arms will not be those of Milton but those of God. Cass also seeks the immuntty of the womb. Throughout the novel he refers to hls desire to hide in some clark room. Th1s longing for enclosure ls particularly emphasized after

2 7aaumbnch, p. 211. 34 the tragic dey 1n Sambuco. Cass•s world has fallen apRrt; he has murdered Mason, and Francesca 11es dead. His 1nit1al response is to run away from this disri.strous scene with the hopes of finding a secure retreat. He first seeks protection

1n the dark .gnd hollow chRmber of a cave. Such enclosure would be a luxury for Cass, for this confinement would punish him in part for his crimes, but more importantly this lncar- ceration would conceal him from life. He would then be

protected from the horrors of the outside world and from the responsib111ty of functioning in such a world. In the fol-

lowing passage Cass describes his emotions nt this tl~e.

Sheer cr~w.y panic came over me: it was the idea of liberty. For here my only tdea had been to give myself up, lmmure myself, entomb ~yself for my crime. And the notion of this :lw f'ul 9.nd lm~tnent libeYty W?S 8S frightening to me as that terror thet must overcome people who dread open sp~ces. The feeling was the S8me. Yearning for enclosure, for conftnement. I was faced with nothing but th~ vlstq of freedom like a wide nnd 1 empty platn. (STHOF-468-469)

Luckily the Italian policeman, Luigi, would not provide

Cass with the luxury of confinement. He is very much aware

of the crime that CBss hRs committed, but he chooses not to punish hlm es he legally should. He realizes that imprison- ment would be no punishment. Ins tend, Luigi removes the manacles from Cass•s legs and sets him free.

Thlr1k whether these years ln jnll, away from your family, will snttsfy your guilt and your remorse ln a wa; that ts not s~tlsfled by the remorses you will have to live with for the rest of your life. Then consider this. 35

tco, my frlend. Simply consider your guilt itself - your other gull t, the abominable gull t you have carried with you so long, this sinful guilt which has m~de you a drunkard, and caused you to wallow in your self-pity, and m9de you fqll ln your art. Consider this guilt which has poi­ soned you to your roots. Ask what it was. Ask yourself whether lt ls not better to go free now, if only so that you m.9.y be able to strike down this other guilt of yours and leRrn to enjoy what­ ever there ls left in life to enjoy. Because if by now, through what you h:i.ve endured, you have not learned something, then five years, ten years, fifty years in jail will teach you nothing • • •• For the love of God, Cass, consider the good in yourself. Consider hope. Consider joy •••• That is all I have to say. Now I am going to strike off that manacle. (STHOF-475)

None of these esc~pe routes previously discussed c.9.fl be completely divorced from the suggestlon of the 1mage of the womb. For example, escape that comes with the darkness of sleep or with alcohol creates this type of graphic repre- sentatlon. These channels of escape 1mpose nn invisible screen qround the indlviual. This screen resembles the oblivious security of the womb which protects one from acces- slbility. For Culver of The Long March and Cass Kinsolving, music serves this purpose; lovely music creates an Resthet1c cosmos thRt locks out the outside world. None of these images, however, are as 1mpl1c1tly represent3tive of the womb as is the image of the alarm clock in Lie Down in Darkness.

It ts rAther 1ncon~ruous chat these characters seek protection in caverns and darkness, which are resorts that suggest an oblivious state. The cause of their anxiety has been produced because of the menAcing presence of such abysslil 36 forces in their lives. The attraction comes from the pro- tecting confinement that such escape modes temporarily provide, but actually these retreats are only re-orcatl.ons of the horrors of the outside world. Of course the only alternative ls to find security within. PersonRl aw~reness and courage wlll ch8'llenge the abyssal forces Bnd establish a concrete means for facing life. IV 37

The Courage to Be

In h1s novels Styron flrst describes the unstable and dreadful conditions of the existential world, And then he notes that m'.l.n 1 s 1niti8.l reaction ls to run from these harsh realities. Man then attempts to create a new reality by searching for some pipe dream world, but lt has been shown that escapism offers only temporary protection. Styron then indicates that man he.s only one constructive alternative; he must m~ke the existential choice of being. In other words, he must be courageous enough to face boldly the problems th~t life offers. In the following pnssage Tillich explains the.t the courageous, self-affirm9.ttve action involves a desperate struggle to defent anxiety and dre13d by coming to grips with it.

Anxiety tends to become fear ln order to have an object with which courage can deal. Courage does not remove anxiety. Since anxiety is existential, it cannot be removed. But courage takes the anxiety of nonbetng into itself. Courage is self-affirmative "in spite of," namely in spite of nonbeing. He who acts courageously takes, in his self-affirmation, the anxiety of nonllelng Uf-On himself. Both preposltions, "lnto" and "upon," are metaphoric and point to anxiety as 8n element which gives self-affirmatton the quaJtty of 11 in sptte of" and trnnsforms it into courage. Anxiety turns us toward cour.c.ige, bec:wse the other al te rnati ve 1s despair. ~ourage resists despAir by t11king 11nxiety into ltself. 2

28~ Cour~ge to Be, p. 65-66. JS According to Styron's philosophy, suffering has 1ts consolation. Man can eventually benefit from experlenolng such anguish. It ls as if this hellish distress purges the individual. For instance, Cass K1nsolvlng ls shaken

and liberated by such an agonl7ing torment. Hls soul or very being ts set on fire, or, as the title of the book suggests, his house ls set on flre. Man• s prior miseries are actually a. good guide llne for a prosperous life. The memory of this hell serves as a con- stant reminder of the benefits of living a courageous life.

C~ss, who finally manages to live in a relatively peaceful

fashion, keeps his past ln mlnd and ls well RWere of the advantages of doing so. Cass tells Peter Leverett that "1n order to think straight a man just needed to be dragged every now and then to the edge of the abyus." (STHOF-269) Cass also realizes that hls present peace could very well be temporary and that he could ensily falJ b9ck into despair. The answer for hlm ls to manage hls life on a day-to-day basis, thus struggling con:tlnuously. Styron introduces one of the ch9pters of ~ ~ House gn. Fire with a quote from 'l'heodore Roethke' s works. This passage summarizes Cess•s new philosophy of life.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know, What falJs a:19y ls .rilways. And is near. I weke to sleep, and take my waking slow. I learn by going where I have to go. (STHOF-236)

There n1e few c~ss Klnsolvlngs in this world; few men possess his kind of bravery. Nevertheless, existential philosophy states that all men possess the potentiality of courage_ In~ Down in Darkness. both Milton and Peyton Loftis show signs of such fortitude. Both make many desperate attempts to reform themselves. Mr. Carr, the Episcopal minister, describes one of Milton's noble efforts in the following passage. Loftis, and not Helen, was the one who was 13Chieving the impossible. He had begun to grab hold of himself. It was exhllarqting to WAtch, and from one point of view vaguely disappointing...., for what had taken pl~ce was not a m~tter of any mystical faith but appArently involved just guts, the revolt of a man against the pure rootlessness which had held him in bondage for half a life time •••• What had happened? Had his guilt, like something monstrous and hairy and unutterable, prowled about his bed at night, filling his dreams with such thoughts of loss, of death. that he knew. upon a.wakening, that this ordeal was the only answer? (.!&l.Q-235)

It ls tragic that Milton came this close to finding a perma- nent happiness; he almost had it in his hands. For some reason, however, neither Peyton nor Milton could achieve happiness or contentment. Apparently they lacked the extra ounce of drive that would allow them to function as complete human beings. Cass ls more successful than the others because he hRs an extra ounce of faith. 'l'hls does not imply that he had found any source of religious strength but instead suggests that he has more faith in himself. Cass recalls that when he was living ln a drunken stupor, compJetely destroying himself, he had no faith at all. "A man cannot live without 40 a focus," he said. "Without some klnd of faith, if you want to call 1t that. I didn't have anymore faith than a tomcat. Nothing. Noth1ngt" (STHOF-55)

It has been noted that c~ss discovers his own personal worth and that thls knowledge provides hlm with the needed impetus to assert himself. In other words, an individual such as Csss has the strength to function decisively. This personal courage allows him to rehabllltAte himself and to break through into the realm of being. Such a self~affirmatlve action is quite rebellious. 'l'he hero becomes r1 rebel bec9.use he ts A.ggresslve enough to fight the absurdltles of his world. Camus notes that the rebel defies any authority and only pays respect to his own individuality.

Previous to his lnsurrentlon, the sl~ve accepted all the demands made upon him. He even very often took orders, without reacting against them. which were considerably more offens1ve to him than the one at which he balked. He w~s patient and though, perhaps, he protested inwardly, he wqs obviously more careful of his own immediate interests- in that he kept quiet-then aware of hls own rights. But with loss of patience-with impatience- begins a reac tlon which can extend to everything that he accepted up to this moment, and which ls almost always retroactive. Immediately the slave refuses to obey the humlll~ting orders of his master, he rejects the condition of slavery. The act of rebellion exceeds the bounds that he established for hls ant~gonist and demgnds that he should now be tregted as an equal. What W8S, originally, an obstinate resistance on the pBrt of the rebAl, becomes the rebel personified. He proceeds to put 8elf-respect above everything else and proclaims that it ls preferable to life itself. It becomes, for him, the SUfreme 41

blessing. Having previously been willing to comprorr.1se, the slsi.ve suddenly adopts an attitude of All or Nothing. Knowledge is born and conscience 8Wakened.29

Mannix of ~ I.i.Qng March is a perfPct ex~C!rnple of a rebel. He finds himself in a completely disgusting situation, and he refuses to conform to its restrictions. After years of soft. civiJ.ian life he is recalled to active mRrine duty. It is a ridiculous and degrading arrangement. Mannix and hls men ere old ~nd out of shape, 8nd as Mqnnlx vehemently points out, none of them .qre young. eighteen yesr old "punks" that can be bossed around. Then fuel ls adctAd to the flame.

Captain Mannix and his H. & s. Company are ordered to make a forced ma1ch of thirty-six miles. This order ls verfectly irr8t1onal; e'Ven young men would have a difficult tlme completing such s march. It ls even more incongruous becnuse the brass does not expect the men to make it. Mannix, however, is going to buck this system if he can; so he rehels in the reverse. He decides th~t he will com1lete the march, even

1 f 1 t takes the last ounce of energy ln hlrr. In P";rt., his renct1ons 1rr,p1y a desper.t:i.te effort to defy the mill tery system and .lts officers. This struggle, however, is more significant. Mannix has never been a conformlst and never intends to sacrifice his fre ·'dam, especially for 11ny unjust cause. His ~ssertiveness during the long march ls just

~nether expression of his courage to be an individual and to

2 91'._he Hebel, trans. Anthony Bower. New York: Alfred A. Knopf Co., 1954. 20. 42 fight the forces that threaten to destroy him. The rebelliousness of Cass Klnsolvlng ls mere violent in nature. In order fol' Cass to break out of hl s personal hell. he has to t?ke drastic steps- violent steps which lead to murder. At the time, Cass viewed this crime as being n

cnse of justifiable homicide. He mistakenly believed that

Mason Flr-igg had rnped and kiJ led Francesca. In kill lng

Mason, however, Cass W"S doing more than Just acting as an

executioner. He was comreltting a sacrificial slAughter. Cass had to destroy Mason for the SAke of his own being and

freedom. Mason was the personification of evil, ~nd he

proved to have B demonic power over Cass. Understandably

Cass could n()t be so encumbered. Violence Wf:is the rrice he

had to pay for fre~dom. The trials nnd tribulations of Styron's heroes are comparable to those of Slsyµhus, a legendary king of Corinth. Like Sisyphus, Mannix Rnd Cass h9ve defied the gods.JO In .1b..£. Long March, Colonel Templeton exemplifies the strong

father figure, and Mannix's defiance lt~ prirnarUy directed qgalnst him. SimiliarJy C~ss finalJy finds the courage to defeat ~ason Flagg, who had golned so much control over his life. It must be nnted thAt TemiQeton and Mason qre only concrete figures that the heroes can attack. In actuality

Mannix and Cass Are striking out at the lmf oslng fo1·ces of ------·---- JODavld D. Galloway, The Absurd Hero in ~nerican ~iction. Austin, TexRs: Uni vers 1 ty of ··rf:lxas Press-; l 96'b-,-p:--b,5. - 4J their world when they attack these powerful, godlike figures. They have become Sisyphean characters because they choose to challenge life and thus struggle to survive. They ~lso hRVP a passion for 11 fe !'md scorn death. Because of this deter- minat1on they can never rest. They have thus qccepted the punishment or challenge that resembles the plight of Sisy~hus. Sisyphus must spend the rest of hls life rolling a rock up s steep hlll.Jl In a compnrable W8Y Mannix Hnd Cass have chosen to figuratively accept and endure thelr bur~ens of existence.

In The L9n8 M8rch and ~ Thi~ liQE_~ .2l! Fire there are images that ln part recRll the picture of Slsyrhus forcing the rock up the crest of the hill. Mannix, for instance, does not literally have the burden of pushing a rock on the forced march, but he must contend with a nail that pierces his shoe end rips the flesh from his foot. Styron dramr:1t1ze:s the presence of this nR11 enough fer lt to serve 8S 9 Sisyphean image of burcl •on and J,aln. Because of this nalJ M~mnix' s am bl tlous qt terr pt to comr,lete the long mnrch ls severely hampered.

Mannix wns hAvlng trouble, too. This time when he came up, he was 11m1iing. He sr:1t dm'ln silently nnd took off his shoe; Culver, gulping avidly at his canteen, watching him. Both of them were too winded to smoke, or to speak. they WRre spr8.wled beside some waterway- canal or stream; phospherescent globes ru8de a spooky glow among shaggy Spanish ~ass, And a rRnk And fetid odor

JlGalloway 1 p. 66. 44 b1oomed in the darkness- not the swamp's decay. Culver reeli~ed, but Mannix's feet. "Look," the Captain muttered suddenly "that nail's cnught me right in the heel." Culver peered down by the glare of M~nnix's flashlight to se0 on his heel a tin.v hole, bleeding slle,htly, bruised !\bout its perimeter and surrounded by a pnsty white where the bandaid had been pulled away. "How'm I going to do it with that?" Mannix said. (TLM-64)

When Mannix ~ets back to the bRse, he cnnnot walk; the nail

has mutilated his foot. The ~gony of this episode emphasizes the difficulty of M&nnlx's trial; not only on this one exten-

sive march but ln life in Feneral. It ls true th~t unlike the legendAry Sisyphus, Mnnnix has won a more everlasting victory. There is no lndlc tion that Mannix must begin his

long mnrch over ~ggln. In comparison, Sisyphus is condemned to eternalJy repe8t the gruelllng torture of pushing the rock up the steep hill. It is a certainty, however, that M8nn1x will ag~in have to fqce ch0llenges in life. Therefore, the

1 ong mr:1rch in 1 ts elf serves as ::=: metRphor of life, C3nd the

incident with the nail 111 ustrates the nwny painful obstacles

of existence. Because M~nnix hns b€nefitted so positively

from his ha.rdsh1 ps on the long mnrch, 1 t ls lrnplied that he will be better qualified to face any future difficulties. Therefore, his struggles are much more beneficial than those of Sisyphus.

In Set 1'111.§. House .2.!l Fire the begting of the str.~y dog 2 ls a similar met0phor of exlstence.3 Life tr2~ts mqn tn the

32 Ba.umbA.ch, 217. same way. It ts as if some ubiquitous hand was continuously

striking men over the head with n club. A kindly man with

great effort puts the dog out of hls misery, 1111.1 C'l!>S \mAgtn~o

that God functions ln the same way, but it ls nll uneless.

The only choice thnt mqn h~s ls to benr the pain And to strugple

to stay on hls feet; just like the dog, roan must refuse to die.

"I must put hlm out of his mh>ery, I must put the poor benst out of his miseryt" Furiously he kept pounding at the dog's skull end muttering over and over to himself these stricken words. But the dog refused to diet Oh, it w~s frightful to watch! To w~tch this animal ln its aesperate suffering, whinnlng and moaning there in the road, his eyes rolling in a~ony, still trying to rise, while iill the time the fellow kept thrashing A.way at his skull, hoping to free the betu>t from his torture but with each blow only Rddlng to the pqln!"

Then Cass lm~gines that the dog has turned into a peasant

woman who screoms for releAse from her pain.

"Don't you see!" Cass began to shout, ho~rsely A.nC. drunkenly. "Liberatemll" she kept screaming. "Relegse met Rele~se met" And then far ~loft I he.g,rd the man's voice sri,'. ing ag·i in and ngaln as he lald on with the stick: "I'm trying! I'm trying!" And I heard his terrible sobs of remorse os he kept beating her, and as he kept saying then, "I cannot!" And as in the depths of my dream I re'llzed th·1t this was only He who in His capricious error had created suffering mortal flesh which refused to die, even ln its own extremity. Which suffered all the more because even He in His mighty belated compassion could not deliver His creatures from their living pain. (STHOF-341-342)

As harsh as their sufferings have been, C«:1ss and Mrrnnlx have reaped m~ny benefits~from their pains. They hAve almost

become h'l!,,PY rnen. Of course .tt is not a p:=irt of the e.x.1stentlAl 46

cond1t10n for men to be completely happy. Any such contentm~nt

ls alWHys m~rred by memories of pRst sorrows and the horrors

thnt ~onttnuously exist ln the world. Nevertheless, c~ss and

M~nnix have eB.rned the right to indulge themselves with some kind of relative felicity. C8ss's triumphant victory over life is rewarded with the pleasant existence that he now leads in Charleston. Here he finBlly finds his green, paradisaic garden. ChBrleston does not represent some idealistic retreat

that en~bles Cass to escnpe from his problems. This really is a matter of relativity. Cass probAbly would not have seen the beauty that surrounded him in this seaside town if he had been as degraded as he once wns. His inner peace now allows him to accept such bliss grA.ciously. Actually the loveliness

of Charleston ls just ~reflection of Cass's beauty as a human

being. Marinix is Jubilnnt a.bout his personal success. Culver

states "that if one did not know he was tn agony one ~ight

imagine that he WA.S a communicant in r!31pture." ( TLM-114) 'l'he last scene of this book explicates Mannlx's condition. It

ls as if the hard mnrch hRs cleansed him, or as lf the s~eqt thRt has bathed him during the gruelling march has functioned

as baptismal water. Mannix regqins a ~uallty of simplicity because of his ordeAl. For thls regson he can so enstly communicate with the Negro woman in the locker room. Styron continuously portrays Negroes as the good, plBln folks of the world. The Negroes are also very sympqthetlc characters 47

because their p~st has been so plagued with suffering. Mannix and this woman become communicants because they have both experienced pain and sorrow.

"Do it hurt?" the maid repeated. "Oh, I bet it does. Deed it does." Mannix looked up at her across the short yqrds that separated them, sllent, blinking. Culver would remember this: the two of them communicating across that chasm one unspoken moment of sympathy and understanding before the woman, spec tac led, bandannaed. said ag9 in, "Deed it does," and before, almost at precisely the same instant, the towel slipped awny slowly from Mannlx's waist ~nd fell with a soft plop to the floor: Mannix then, standing there, weavlng dizzily and clutching for support at the wall, a mass of scars ~nd naked as tne day he emerged from his mother's womb, save for the soap which he held feebly ln one hand. He seemed to have neither the strength nor the ability to lean down and retrieve the towel and so he merely stood there huge and naked in the slanting dusty light and blinked and sent towArd the woman, finally, a sour, apologetic smile, his words uttered, it seemed to Culver, not with self-pity but only with the tone of a man who, h~ving endured and lasted, w~s too weary to tell her anything but what was true.

"Deed 1 t does," he said. (11:!1-120)

Mannix's nakedness exemplifies his newly acquired slmpllcity. Just as a newborn baby, Mannix ts reborn into this world in a naked state, but unlike the 1nfRnt, Mannix has a few scars. Peyton loftis tries desperately to free herself in this same way, in an attempt to regain innocence. Before her lenp to death, Peyton strips herself of her clothing, which symbolically serves as the vestment of her sin. Peyton, unlike Mannix, does nothing to deserve this state; she imposes this condition upon herself. Unfortunately her nRkedness only delivers her into d8ath. Mannix becomes the S8dder but wiser American hero who walks on into life. 48

M~nn1x and Cass are now strong enough to stand under the sur.. 'I'he heat of the sun had been such a source of

vexati01rn f'!nergy bP. fore. For C13ss the sun was an oven which threatened to consume him. The sun was such an omnivorous force because 1t was like his guilt. His guilt also threat- ened to consume him. In order to escape from this menance

Cass thought of destro,y1ng hlmsel f and his farni ly.

He might not have slaughtered Poppy '-Uld the ch tldren And himself, Just as he hAd in­ tended but failed to do in Paris long before. For thn.t was whnt- to save them from this storm, this exploding sun of his own gullt-he was planning to accomplish. To remove from this earth (as once he snid) all m8rk and sign and stain of himself, his love and his vain hopes and his pathetic creations and his guilt. (STHOF-461)

When Cass ls in Charleston, the sun no longer worries him. He ls now able to live wlth himself and his guilt. Quite

effectively Styron allows Cass to spend ~11 his time outside fishing and painting. In this section of the novel, Cass

1s alw0,ys blissfully bqsking under the sun.

The hent of the sun added an extra hardship for MRnnix and his men during the long march. "The sun rose higher,

burning down at their backs so that each f~lt he bore on his

shoulders not the burden of a pack but, almost worse, a portable oven growing hotter And hotter as the sun came up from behind the sheltering pines." (TLM-99) Mannix did bear up under this burden, wh1ch compares with the burden that Sisyphus ls forced to carry. Futhermore in his triumph 49 Mannix can stand naked ln the light of the sun.JJ

Robert Gorham Davis feels that it ls not very realistic

for characters, such as Cass, to redeem themselves through

self-affirmative action. He contends thBt lt would be

more credible if Cass had been destroyed just like Milton

and Peyton. According to Davls, Styron's optlmistlc con-

clusion in Set 'l'hls House .Q!! Fire and 1.n The Long March is

too Victorian and ls not representative of the twentleth­

century sltuatlon. 34 It is true that the general trend of

literature is not as hopeful as Styron's work; Styron has

not become one of the numerous, modern nihilists. Instead,

he prefers to offer some kind of positive answer for existing

problems. Thls ls not to S9.:f that Styron ls a sugary and

starry-eyed creator of empty hopes. Styron does not carry

his enthusiasm to the extreme. According to Styron, all men ideally could learn to reckon with their world and them-

selves, but not all men can achieve this ambitious ~oal.

The tragic lives of Peyton and Milton Loftis emphasize this

point. In The Long March and~ This House .2Q. Fire, Styron does present two ch11recters who succe:~sfully find the courage to challenge the existential world. Thus ln considering these constrastlng aspects, Styron does present a very well bqlanced picture of life with its restrictions and its hopes.

33 See p8.ge forty-seven. ( TLM-120) J4nstyron and the Student," Critique, J (Summer, 1960), 4Li.. 50

BIBLIOGRAPHY Secondary Sources

Aldridge, John W. 11 '.rb.e Society of '11hree Novels, 11 In Search of Heresy. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1956. ~ Baura.back, Jonathan. "Paradise Lost: The Novels of' William Styron," South Atlantic Quarterly, 63 (Spring, 1964), 207- 217.

Benson, Alice R. "'I'ecbniques in t;he 'l'wentieth-Century Novel for Relating the Particular to the Universal: Set 'rhis House on F'ire," Papers of the Michigan Academy of Science, 47 (1962), 587-594: ------~

Bryant, Jerry H. "'rhe Hopeful Stoicism of' William Styron," South Atlantic quarterly, 62 (Autunm, 1963), 539-550.

Cam.us, Albert. 'The Myt~ of Si sfphus and Other Essa~s. Trans. Justin 0 1Brien:-New .orK': Al red A:-Krlopf Co!', 1 57 • • '.rb.e Rebel. Trans. Anthony Bower. New York: -· -....A-lf.... r-e-··d--A-.-Knopf ~o., 1959.

Cheyer, A. H. "W. L. B. Biography: William Styron," Wilson Library Bulletin, 36 (April 1962), 691. Curley, 'l'homas F. "The Quarrel with Time in American Fie ti on," American Scholar, 29 (Autumn, 1960), 552, 554, 556, 558, 560. Davis, Robert Gorham. "Styron and the Students," Critique, 3 (Summer, 1960), 37-46 • • "'l'he American Individualist Tradition: Bellow -··-a-n_d_S_t_y_r_o-n," 'l'he Creative Present. Ed. Norma Balaldan and Charles SimrnoiiS:' New York: Doubleday, 1963, 111-141. Detweiler, Hobert. "William Styron and the Courage to Be," Four Spir•itual Crises in Mid... Century American F'iction. Gainesville, lirlorida: University of :B1lor1da Press, 1964, 6-13. Fenton, Charles. "William Styron and the Age of' the Slob, 11 South Atlontic Quarterly, 59 (Autumn, 1960), 469-476. Finkelstein, Sidney. "Cold War, Religious Hevival and Family Alienation: William Styron, J. D. Salinger and Edward Albeo, 11 Existentialism and Alienation in American Literature. New York: International Publisliers-;-1967, 211-242. Friedman, Joseph J. 11Non ... Conformity and the Writer," Venture, 2 .(Winter, 1957), 23-31. Foster, Richard. "An Orgy of Commerce: William Styron 1 s Set 1:i'his House -2!! ~'" Critique, 3 (Summer, 1960), 59-70-;- Galloway, David D. The Absurd Hero in American Fiction. Aus­ tin, Texas: University of Texas-Press, !96b.

Geismar, Max.well. "Domestic r.rragedy in Virginia, II Saturday Review of Literature, 34 (September 15, 1951), 12 • • "William Styron: 'The End of Innocence," Amer­ ~~i-c-an~~M-o_d_e-rns: From Rebellion to Conformity. New York:-nI'll B."iiCrWang, 1958-;219-250. -

He.ssan, Irab H. "Encounter with Necessity, u Radie al Innocence: Studies in.~ Contemporart American !'Iovel. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton Universi y Press, 1'161, 124-133 • • "The Avant-Garde: Which Way is F'orward?" Nation, ---19-3,,,...... (~H-o_v_e-.mber 18, 1961), 396-399 •

11 • 'l'he Novel of Outrage: A Minority Voice in ~~P-o-s~t1_N_a_r_A~m-erican Fiction,,, American Scholar, 34 (Spring, 1965), 239-253. Heinemann, F1. H. Existentialism and the :Modern Predicament. Hew York: Harper and Brothers,"19str.'"" Hoftman, F'rederick J. The Art of Southern Fiction. London: Feffer and Simons In'C':"; J]b7-;-1!j4-161.

Kierkegaard, Soran. The Siclmess Unto Death. 'l1rens. Walter Lowrie. Princeton, -Wew J"erscy: Princeton University Press, 1941. Lawson, John H. "Styron: Darkness and Fire in the Modern Novel, "Mainstream, 13 (October, 1960), 9-18. Lawson, Lewis. "Ce.as Kinsolving: Kierkege.ardian Man o:f Des­ pair," WSCL, (Fall, 1962), 54-66 • . - Ludwig, Jack. H.ecent American Novelists. Minneapolis, Minne­ sota: University of Minnesota Press, 1962, 31-33.

Meeher, Hichard K. 11 '11he Youngest Generation of Southern Writors, 11 in Southern Writers: Appraisals .2f. ~ Timo. r----

Ed. H. c. Simon, Jr. Charlottesville, Virginia: University of Virginia Press, 1964. McNaraara, Eugene. "Styron's L)ng March: Absurdity and Author­ ity,"~, 15 {Summer, 1961, 2'67-272. Moore, L. Hugh. "Robert Penn War::-en and William Styron and the Use o:f Greek Mythology," Critique, 8 (Winter, 196.5-66), 7.5-81.

0 1 Connor, William Van. "John Updike and William Styron: The Burden of Talent," Contemporary American Novelists. Ed. Harry T. Moore. Carbonaale, Illinois: Southern Illinois University Press, 1964, 20.5-220.

Podhoretz, Norman. "'fhe Gloom of Philip Hoth, 11 Doings and Undoings. New York: Farrar, Strauss and Co., 1964., 2)b-243.

Hubin, Louis D., Jr. 11 11he South and the Faraway Country, 11 Virginia que.rterl;i- Review, 38 (Surmner, 1962), 444-ll.59 • • "William Styron: Notes on a Southern Writer __i_n_b_u_r_T .... i-me, 11 in '11he F'arawe.y Countr~: Writers of the 1"1odern South. Seanle, Wasnington: University '0'1:' WaShington Press, 1963, 185-230.

11 s·cevenson, David L. Fiction•s Unfamiliar Face, II Nation, 187 (November 1, 1958), 307-309 • • "Styron and the Fiction of the Fifties," -o-r-1.-.'t.-'i-r-q_u_e-,-3 (Summer, 196 O ), 47-5 8 •

11 • rrhe Activists, 11 Daedalus, 92 (Spring, 1963), -2--3-s----2Ij:-tj.-

Thorp, Willard. 11 'l111-e Southern Mode, 11 South Atlantic Quarterly, 63 (Autumn, 1964), 576-582.

'rillach, Paul. 'rhe Courage to ~· New Haven, Connecticut: Yale Universit'Y°"Press, 195"2. Waldmeir, Joseph. "Quest Without Faith, 11 Nation, 193 (Novem­ ber 18, 1961), 390-396. Warren, Hobert Penn. "Styron and the Use of Greek Mythology," Critique, 8 {Winter, 196501966), 75-81.

West Hay B. Jr. 11 Literary Criticism," Saturday Heview, 72 {March J.4, 1953), 12-14. Wild, John. "Kierkegaard and Contemporary Existentialist Philosophy, 11 in A I\.eirkegaard Gri tique. Ed. Howard A. Johnson. New York: Harpers and Brothers, 1962, 22-39. Winner, Arthur. "Adjustment, Tragic Humanism and Italy," American Study, 7 (1961), 311-361.

Shorter Works of William Styron

11Aftermath of Benjamen Reid, u Esquire, 58 (November, 1962), 79, 81, 158, 160, 164. "As He Lay Dead, A Bitter Grief," Life, 53 (July 20, 1962), 39-42. ~ "Death-in-Life of' Ben,iamen Reid," Esquire, 57 (Feb., 1962), 114, 141-145. "The Enormous Window, 11 American Vanguard, 19?0• Ed. Charles I. Glicksberg. New York: New School of Social Research, 1950. 11 The McCabes," Paris Review, 22 (Autumn-Winter, 1960), 12-28. 0.Mrs. Aadland•s Little Girl, Beverly," Esquire, 56 (November, 1961), 142, 189-191. 11'.11his Quiet Dust," Harper's, 230 (April, 1965), 134-146. "Virginia, 11 Partisan Review, 33 (Winter, 1966), 13-4.5.

Novels of William Stzron The Confessions of Nat Turner. London: Jonathan Cape Press, --r968. ------Lie Dovm in Darkness. New York: The American Library, 1951. ~ Long March. New York: Vintage Books, 1952. Set This House on Fire. New York: The New American Library, l9~ --

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